Category: Ink In Thirds
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2 July: Fireworks for 100WW
Fireworks Hotdogs. Mustard. Mum’s potato salad — she always brought it to family dos. It was thick with mayo, heavy on onion, chopped eggs, cubed potatoes, and crushed saltine crackers. “Saltines are a southern thing,” she explained to my aunt, who, in turn, huffed that Mum wasn’t southern; she was more northern than Alaska. While…
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The Ghost of Elbow Road
Virginia Beach —dusk whispering left at the curve. She was never buried—only bent. Like the road. Like the truth. Her name—lost in the turn, caught between asphalt and afterthought. Now, she lingers where the trees lean too close, where the ditches weep when it rains. She’s The Girl. No name. White dress. Waiting eyes. She’s…
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20.03 Spring’s Arabesque
I dreamt of spring—such a strange little telling; blind, blue-eyed flowers straight from the dark brows of doom into a gentle dance. A swaying arabesque—so soft were its April eyes upon the woodland, its shock of white from a blackthorn’s blossom. There’s always a romp, a bird’s pantomime between branch and bough—a secret song, like…
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07.03 Ex Nigro et Albo Hiemis
Ex Nigro et Albo Hiemis It’s from the east facing window that I watch spring, although this morning’s winter fog obscures the view from anything beyond the windowsill, but no matter—I’m unmoored from gloom by an amber warning to winter that blooms bright as a lantern. Yes, the crocuses are blooming; yes, the birdbath has…
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21 Feb: A Miracle Done
You laugh as if a cool sweep of sea has touched your feet, touched your toes white as snowdrops. In your wonderfully wide eyes, cool grass on a summer day is a miracle done. What will your first word be: some sound no one will comprehend until a tide of liquid laughter ripples beyond babble.…
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11 Dec: Ink In Thirds 100 Words
In the Light of a Lamp I’ll say right upfront that she didn’t kill herself. Mum told the removal men where to place the piano; in the dining room against the south-facing wall, but when Dad came home he glared at the piano and walked past it like it was a naughty puppy who’d peed…
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3 October: For Ink in Thirds
He mowed a path across the grass.Brown earth’s showing. She watches on,Her arms crossed, silently judgemental. Written for Ink in Thirds (Three Line Thursday), the word is “fold” although it’s not to be included in the poem – only it’s insinuation. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT…
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12 Sept: 100 Words and a Crow
100 Words and a Crow “She likes a clean house,” says the woman with blue tint hair, “so she hires a woman. Her husband hires one, too,” and a nervous giggle runs itself through the queue. We’re at the post office, collecting pensions, buying stamps, etc. And I say, “It was my grandmother’s birthday yesterday,…
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6 Sept: 3 Line Thursday
I cast my soul to the aira heron who lands in a salt reed marshand I stare at the rising moon until morning Written for Ink in Thirds (Three Line Thursday) “wait”. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not…
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4 Sept: Announcement
Ink in Thirds 100 Words Winner I am delighted to be one or two winners of August’s Ink in Thirds 100 Words feature. The published magazine story may be read at Ink In Thirds 100 Words, and my original post is available to read here. I encourage anyone with an itch to write to join in and…
It's Still Life 